Schoenberg, Schumann and Brahms: Philharmonia Orchestra, Christoph Von Dohnanyi (conductor) Lars Vogt (piano)  Queen Elizabeth Hall, London  04.02. 2007 (GD)

 

 

 

 

Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1 in E major,Op 9, (written in 1906) marks, like his slightly earlier First String quartet, something of a paradigm shift, not only in his own output, but in twentieth century music in general. Schoenberg had not yet introduced his 12 tone system, but the Chamber Symphony pushes the limits of tonality as it had pertained in the music of Wagner, Richard Strauss, and Scriabin. It also eschews the rhetorical and temporal excess of late romanticism, found in the composer’s earlier works such as the ‘ Gurrelieder’. The very title ‘Chamber Symphony’ ( for 15 players), and its extreme economy of form and content pre-empts the aesthetic climate associated later with ‘Neue Sachlichkeit’. As Adorno noted, although there are still traces of Mahlerian melody here, Schoenberg condenses and refracts these melodic elements to make them both cohere and conflict with the more dissonant and contrapuntal elements found in the work: what he termed ‘Klangfarbenmelodie’.

 

Dohnanyi delivered a well considered and rather careful reading…when I say ‘careful’ I mean careful in the sense of attention to the work’s overall structural contour, but also careful in the sense of being rather restrained, even safe. Here the emphasis was more on the musical world Schoenberg was departing from; Dohnanyi’s encouragement of lyrical shaping (especially in the woodwind and horns) sounded far too ‘gemütlich’ for Schoenberg’s new sound-scape. As Boulez learnt from Hans Rosbaud, the works new acerbic texture must make its textural effect, but also totally integrate( on a new level) with the works sometimes amorphic tonal structure. Schoenberg here produces what sounds like a homophonic texture throughout. The trouble with tonight’s performance was that Dohnanyi allowed certain solo passages an almost cadenza like opulence totally alien to the work. Apart from some occasional messy counterpoint, especially in the second and third sections, Dohnanyi allowed the tempo and texture to sag in the recapitulation, losing all its harmonic relatedness to the adagio section. The final itself, as a free recapitulation of the exposition and the adagio, did not quite cohere as it should and the final cadence on horns felt weakened by the conductor’s decision to make an un-marked ritardando.

Lars Vogt gave us a quite traditional sounding performance of the Schumann Piano Concerto. It sounded quite ‘Germanic’ and earnest, with some added subtleties of pianistic texture in the Andantino grazioso, Intermezzo section. Of course I know that Schumann was a German composer; so what’s wrong with playing his Piano Concerto in a ‘Germanic’ style? Most of us know that in part the idea of writing of a Piano Concerto came from Clara Schumann. We also know that Schumann found the writing of a concerto in the traditional classical sonata style extremely difficult. In fact he ended up incorporating material in the first movement of the concerto from a fantasia for piano and orchestra he had began in 1837 (four years before the eventual composition of the concerto). As it turned out the completed Piano Concerto was very different in style and form to the standard classical German Piano Concerto: Schumann’s work is more a fantasy for piano and orchestra in concerto form. Much of Schumann’s pianistic writing here would fit well with compositions for solo piano like ‘Kreisleriana’, or ‘Carnaval’.

 

More than any nineteenth century piano concerto, Schumann’s work is an integration of piano and orchestra; some of Schumann’s most subtle orchestration. Sadly, apart from some very fine playing from Vogt, this integration was not achieved tonight. Very often the conductors and soloists view of the work seemed at odds. Dohnanyi gave an over-hasty and extremely perfunctory account of the opening, with hardly any attention to phrasing in the A minor interplay of harmony in violins, viola and celli. By the time we arrived at the middle section’s dramatic change of key to A flat, followed by the tender dialogue between piano and orchestra in 6/4 time, Dohnanyi had slowed down gear considerably, Vogt playing in an entirely different tempo! Dohnanyi wisely divided first and second violins throughout tonight’s concert; absolutely essential if this interplay is to register.

Dohnanyi sensibly followed the Andantino marking for the exquisite second movement intermezzo, but by the time the second subject arrived, he had slowed slightly and was out of sync with Vogt’s rather straight performance. There was some nice cello intonation for the big A major romance melody, only marred by some slightly off woodwind accompaniment.

The wonderfully inventive Allegro vivace finale, where Schumann incorporates all his integration of fantasy and structure, mostly went quite well, with Dohnanyi obtaining some particularly crisp string playing in the mid-section orchestral fugato. But again I had no real sense of dialogue ‘inter pares’ between soloist and orchestra. The second subject quasi waltz/dance (the famous deux-temps rhythm section) where piano and strings in semi-tones dance in interplay was not captured as buoyantly as it should be. Also the enchanting linkage figures for pianissimo woodwind in fanfare style sounded curiously flat?   The wonderfully inventive coda, initiated by a striking new theme in A flat, lacked that last ounce of rhythmic inflection  distinguishing a good from an outstanding performance. Of course I have fond memories of Clara Haskil in this work, but more recently a new recording by Helene Grimaud from Dresden with Esa-Pekka Salonen has rather spoilt my response to other performances, so completely do Grimaud and Salonen understand the play of fantasy and dialogue in this unique concerto.

As an encore, after the concerto, Lars Vogt played a nicely lilting performance of the Third ‘Moments Musicaux’ in F minor, by Schubert.

In a curious way Brahms’s Fourth Symphony in E minor, Op. 98 has some points in common with the Schoenberg Chamber Symphony heard earlier this evening. I say ‘curious’ because Brahms is considered by many to be the arch-conservative composer in contrast to Schoenberg as the arch-radical. But Schoenberg greatly admired Brahms and in terms of the trenchant conflation of form and content, and the sheer compositional economy of both works, the comparison is not too far fetched allowing for the obvious differences in the historical context of the two composers. Brahms could be notoriously ambiguous regarding tempo indications but if read properly the score indicates a quite consistent Allegro non troppo for the works opening, with room for subtle (very subtle!) rubato. Dohnanyi started at Allegro non troppo with nicely phrased ‘dolce’ strings overlapping with well integrated woodwind and horns. But by the close of the exposition in B flat minor Dohnanyi had made several tempo gear shifts losing the initial pulse which should permeate the entire movement. The arresting passage in the development section beginning in G sharp minor, with trenchant cross-rhythms in canon between strings and horns was not incisive enough here, and the wonderful moment of ‘clouded solemnity’ (in Tovey’s words) initiating the recapitulation lacked a sense of mystery. The coda to this movement, the ‘most powerful since Beethoven’ according to Tovey, went for virtually nothing. Here those whirlwind figurations on strings need much more urgent articulation, and the important closing timpani part, intoning the tonic of E minor, lacked tonal weight. Dohnanyi sustained the second movement ‘Andante moderato’ well enough although the central climatic plunge of conflict between the keys of C an E lacked conviction. The following ‘solemn splendour’ (Tovey) intoned in full harmony by lower strings ( with hints of the Phrygian mode…Brahms was studying in particular Palestrina at the times of writing this symphony) were well articulated but lacked that tonal depth one used to hear when Klemperer conducted this work with the then Philharmonia.

The Third movement ‘Allegro giocoso’ (the only scherzo in the composer’s four symphonies) started with a lively up-beat from Dohnanyi. There were plenty of fine things here orchestrally; thrilling horn interjections, good sense of contrasting rhythm especially from the strings, although the important part  for triangle should have penetrated the texture more. Dohnanyi certainly understood the buoyant rhythmic contour of this movement, even if he didn’t quite achieve Tovey’s ‘tiger-like energy’.

Any performance of Brahms’s last symphony ultimately stands or falls in its delivery of the last great movement, based as it is on Bach’s ‘chaconne’ bass from his Church Cantata No 150. In concert I have only heard three performances which come close to realizing Brahms’s supreme orchestral statement; those from Klemperer, Boult, and Hans Schmidt-Isserstedt. Toscanini’s various performances, which I have only heard in recorded form,  probably came closest to a full realization. Overall Dohnanyi’s performance was just too light-weight; it lacked ‘energico e passionato’. The wonderful accompanied flute passage (variation 12, out of 32 variations on Bach’s passacaglia),with undertones of Gluck’s Elysian scene from Orfeo, was played and conducted in a just too straightforward, four-square manner, And the intonement of variation 14 and 15, announced by three trombones (silent up to this moment) did not startle as they should. Variations 24 and 25, where the eight note passacaglia theme is hammered out in a blazing tutti fortissimo was simply under-powered, again the timpani lacking a certain tonal weight and attack, which certainly can still be heard vividly in Toscanini’s awe-inspiring 1935 London recording with the BBC orchestra as it was then.

From variation 30, which sets the ground bass for the E minor coda, Brahms asks for a ritardando to be sustained throughout the coda. Here, for reasons only known to Mr Dohnanyi, the tempo was accelerated into the coda, thus robbing this unique ‘tragic’ coda of its grim power.

 

 

When I heard Klemperer conduct this music in the mid-sixties, with the then Philharmonia, I left the concert absorbed by the music, ending up, not by design, somewhere in Covent Garden! Tonight, well before the coda of the symphony I was thinking of the quickest way to leave the hall in order to catch the scheduled bus home.

 

 

Geoff Diggines